The True Story of Miles Tails Prower
by PeppermintCharm
Summary: The accepted story behind Miles Prower is "He was an orphan." "He was picked on." But where are the details? Where is the actual story?
1. Prologue

You probably already know about Miles Prower, more commonly known as Tails. That friendly, young sunshine-coloured fox who's got a knack for engineering and an IQ that might even challenge Einstein. You probably recognize him as the fox that follows famous Sonic the Hedgehog around the world. Sonic's right hand man, his side kick, always building machines to help. He's scared of thunder, loves mint candy, and is approximately eight years old, always smiling.

Now, let me ask you a question.

Who was Tails before he became Sonic's best friend?

You can't answer that, can you?

Many people have theories. Tails' parents were killed, he was made fun of for his twin tails, thus he was an outcast, and probably many others I haven't heard about. All of these theories have some truth to them, but they aren't full explanations are they? All these theories are just little pieces, all a part of something bigger. To put it in a common metaphor, a puzzle. Everyone has their little puzzle piece to Tails' history.

That's why I'm here. I'm here to tell you the truth of who that little fox was before he met that blue hedgehog. This is the true story Miles "Tails" Prower.

This story starts with a car. To be more precise, a van. A grey van with mud caked along the tires and rims of the doors, scratches etched into the metal. Despite the wear and tear, it was fairly new and modern, making a quiet hum as it drove. In the driver's seat of this van was an adolescent Mobian hedgehog with brown fur, a black jacket, sunglasses, and white sneakers, staring forward at the road, not saying a word to the small, young, scared fox in the back seat. The young fox's sunny yellow fur was singed from the fire the day before. His skinny arms hugged his folded legs, subconsciously guarding his white belly. He wore scuffed, torn red tennis shoes. Eyes the colour of a spring sky peered out the window at the world. His muzzle and the insides of his ears matched his belly, white. Three tufts of fur sprouted from his forehead, hanging in his eyes. He hadn't been told where he was going. The young fox noticed that it was somewhere outside of the city; the skyscrapers were turning into smaller buildings.

The van proceeded to drive along the road. It wasn't until they'd gone under the sign reading, 'Now leaving Sereolis!' when the fox worked up the nerve to look at the hedgehog in the mirror and ask, "Where are we going?"

The hedgehog responded in monotone, "Green Valley Orphanage."

"Oh." The fox was only five years old at the time, he didn't know what an orphanage was. But it was a big word, that's for sure. "What's a.. orphan..age..?" he asked, having trouble pronouncing the mighty word.

"A place kids go when they don't have parents."

The golden fox hugged his legs tighter. He was smart enough to understand what this meant; he didn't need to know any more, nor did he want to. Looking outside the window again, he saw rolling green hills. The fox didn't know it, but the green hills marked the start of early summer. Lowering his eyes to the inner rim of his shoes, he softly caressed the name in black permanent marker along the rubber, written by his mother when he had received these shoes.

The name spelt, "Miles "Tails" Prower".


	2. Chapter One

A pothole in the road caused the van to jostle, awakening the young fox. Shaking his head and looking through the back window of the van, Tails could see the city was but a small strip on the horizon. The road had become very rough, and it appeared not to have been painted in years. As he turned and looked out the front of the van, P was driving towards a building. It matched the town; old fashioned and run down. Did anyone even live here? The van pulled up in front of the bordering picket fence. The sun would set soon, maybe everyone had gone inside for dinner or something.

"Alright kid, we're here," the hedgehog, "P", muttered, putting the break on. Tails didn't respond, only unbuckling himself and getting on his knees to look outside. The car had been parked on a gravel driveway, still a ways from the two story building. While it obviously had two stories, and an abundance of windows, the slanted roof indicated a possible attic. Mobian children that looked to be between the ages of four to preteen ran around the yard, playing with the equipment, such as slides and frisbees. Their screams of laughter mimicked a schoolyard, Along the fence, next to the gate, was a mailbox, its paint have worn off long ago. Painted in black along the side was "Green Valley Orphanage".

After stepping outside of the van himself, Popened the door for Tails. Being the observant fox he is, Tails noticed that his driver had a rather unique shaped scar on the back of his hand. It looked similar to a fork, but with a jagged handle. He stepped out and watched the quiet hedgehog grab his suitcase from the trunk, taking the leather case when he holds it out.

"Come on and I'll get you signed in."

Tails followed when the teen opened the gate and walked towards the porch. A few children stopped what they were doing to stare. Tails couldn't help but feel that they weren't staring at _him_, but rather his tails.. He nervously pulled them to his chest. When the new arrivals reached the porch steps, Tails could see the paint peeling off of the building. The steps creaked beneath his feet when he climbed the stairs. Tails stepped inside the door, his escort shutting it. The sounds of the yard were muffled inside.

When the yellow fox looked around to observe this strange place, the first thing he did was wrinkle his nose. The air was stale and musty. No wonder everyone was outside. The faded floorboards looked older then the house itself. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, highlighting the dust. When Tails breathed through his mouth, it even tasted like the dirt. This air must have absolutely no moisture.

When the two Mobians first entered, they were confronted with a hallway. A little ways forward it opened up and exposed what looked to be a living room. A sun-bleached couch slouched in front of a television that had to be over 15 years old, judging from its bulk. A white fan sat upon the box, blowing slightly cooler air at them. A thatched rug with faded out patterns laid between the TV and couch. To the left was a closed door, ahead of them, next to the TV, was a screen door leading to the back yard. A small bookshelf sat beneath one of many windows, looking as if it hadn't touched in years. To the right an open door beckoned, to what looked to be an office.

Upon entering, Tails and his escort could see a female cat sitting behind the desk with many disorganized papers littered across it. File cabinets surrounded her backside. Her fur shared the colour of the gravel; pale grey, with hints of blue. Her aged, white hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail. Yellow eyes flicked up at the two when they approached, then back down quickly to whatever she was writing.

"Hello," she boredly greeted with a slight sigh. "Prower?" After the teen nodded, she reached her thin hand for a paper, setting it in front of him, along with a pen.

Tails tried to see onto the desk, getting on his toes, but he could still barely see over his little black nose. Quietly P began to fill out the paper, occasionally looking at Tails. Tails sunk back down to normal height, shifting his suitcase from his left to his right hand.

After around two minutes, he finished and returned the form. The elderly cat looked if over briefly, looking over her glasses to read the text.

"A fire; how tragic." Her tone had no sincere sympathy, making Tails' ears drop down. "Well thank you for dropping him off..." she squinted at the paper, "P?" The woman raised an eyebrow. The hedgehog, apparently his name really was P, or at least that's what he wished to be addressed by, nodded again. "I'm sure he'll find a home quickly."

Peter looked at Tails, receiving a look of confusion and sadness. He sighed, shaking his head. "Good luck, kid." He turned around and went out the doorway, and eventually the front door, the hinges creaking in objection to being turned this direction.

And then he was gone.

Tails looked back at the old cat. She stood up, pushing off the desk wit her hand, allowing Tails to see her button-up shirt and slacks. The cat also had sandals on her feet, and her sleeves were rolled up to the elbow. "I'm Stacy. I'll show you where you'll be staying. We were full, so you'll be sharing the attic with the maid." Her lack of enthusiasm and emotion, except boredom, made Tails feel even more imprisoned. When the cat climbed halfway up the stairs and Tails hesitated to follow,, she turned around and looked at him. "Well are you coming or not?" Tails stepped onto the stairs, making his way upwards slowly. "You know you should feel lucky. The attic's much bigger than the normal bedrooms. And Violet's pretty nice, even if she's older than the house itself."

Upon reaching the top step, the wood stretched out in an indoor balcony style, allowing a view of the bottom floor. Wooden railing prevented careless ones from falling over. Every door but one was open, exposing rooms with two sets of bunk-beds each. Every room had a window as well. Once Stacy had crossed the balcony, she opened up the closed door. After turning the doorknob, she flicked a switch inside the closet-like room, and a lightbulb clicked on to expose another staircase. Stacy began to climb these stairs as well, Tails following, lugging his case behind him.

These stairs were very short in contrast to the previous ones. The creaky wooden steps led the two to an attic. Light shone through the one large window that looked like it opened. The window was raised a bit away from the floor; Tails would need to move a few items over to be able to see out of it. The widow illuminated a recently used bed, dresser, and a second bed and dresser along with many storage boxes that appear to not've been touched in years. Dozens of spiderwebs decorated the ceiling and corners.

"You may set your things on the second bed. Violet should be back from the dry cleaners tomorrow morning." Tails did as she said and set his suitcase on the bed, uplifting a cloud of dust. "Once you're settled in, you should go outside and say hello to the other children." Stacy returned to the lower floors.

Now that he was alone, Tails sat on the bed and thought about, well, everything. Nervously wringing one of his twin tails, he thought about how his life had changed in one day. Here he was, no parents, in a place where modernization hasn't been realized, yet. This building probably hadn't been remodeled in Chaos-knows-how-long. The young fox opened his suitcase and unwrapped a picture frame of him and his parents, smiling sadly. His fur colour had been inherited mostly from his mother, whose fur was a darker shade of yellow. Hair the colour of ocean spray sprouted from her head, falling to her shoulders. Her eyes were light purple, however. His father had sparkling blue eyes that had been given to Tails. His father's fur was pale yellow, the same colour of a noon sun almost. Under the picture frame there wasn't much else; a couple of singed mint taffies, a Rubix Cube, an unscathed blue blanket and pillow, and two extra pairs of socks. His lucky bow tie was there, also. Maybe it'd bring him some luck in this unlucky circumstance. But everything else had been burnt to a crisp in the fire.

_Like my parents..._ he thought. When those three words crossed through Tails' mind, his bottom lip quivered, his eyes became wet. The young fox spread his blanket and pillow on the bed, kicked off his shoes, clutched the photo to his chest, and laid down. Tails brought his legs up, his tails curling around himself in a fetal position. He pressed the blanket to his nose and breathed in the scent that he'd always known. _Home._ It smelled like home.

Tails closed his eyes, squeezing out tears, and for the next few hours, dreamed of home.

Tails was awoken by his own sneeze; the dust had settled in his nose and on his face. He sat up, remember where he was and what'd happened. After rubbing his face, he was able to discover that his muzzle was caked with dry tears. Once he quickly rubbed his hands all over his face, the fox sat up. With a little more confidence from his quick nap, he stretched and put his shoes back on. _I can do this. How hard can it be?..._

Around three minutes is what it took for the little fox to make his way down to the front door. But there he stopped. Tails just stared at the doorknob a few inches above his head. It had probably been shiny when it was first made, glistening like a river in sunlight. Now it showed a blurred reflection of the world, scratch marks telling heavy usage. Taking a deep breath, he reached his fuzzy hand up and twisted the knob, opening the door inward. Tails, quietly as he could, stepped outside, managing to do so without causing the door to scream. The sky was starting to darken, they'd probably be called inside soon. No one looked at him. Okay, so far so good. Maybe he could just slip into a group and start playing games. Yeah, that'd work.

The fox stepped down the porch steps and made his way towards a group of children that appeared to be near his age. The group he approached consisted of a blue cat, a grey hedgehog, and two other foxes. The youngsters were taking turns tossing a ball back and forth. The hedgehog was tallest, followed by the cat. The foxes were the same height.

"H-Hi," Tails nervously began. "Can I play with you guys?"

The hedgehog looked at Tails. "What's your name?"  
"Miles, but-"

Before he could finish his sentence, the cat interrupted him. "Why do you have two tails?"  
"I don't-"  
"Yeah that is kinda weird," the hedgehog observed. "Freaky."  
"We don't want to get your freakiness," one of the two foxes added.

"Yeah, we don't want to be freaks," the second stated.

"Go play with the other kids," they both said at the same time.

Tails' heart and ears sunk. "So I can't play with you guys?"  
"Nope."

"Okay..." Tails turned around and went towards a group of only foxes. Maybe they'd accept him because he was a fox as well. Once he'd approached them, he quietly said the same thing he'd said a minute ago. "Can I play with you guys?"

Like with the previous group of kids, they all stared at his double tails. He took a step back. "I guess not...?"

Very abruptly, Tails was pulled off his feet, backwards. The poor child found himself dangling, rather painfully, up-side-down by his two tails. "Put me down!"

The black bat that was gripping the base of the two tails ignored him. The mean kid must have come up behind him. He looked to be at least twice Tails' age, probably older. "What's up with your tails? You a mutant or something?"

"You're hurting me!" Tears were starting to gather in the eyes of the victimized fox. The bat let go, dropping Tails onto his back. "Why did you do that?" Tails asked, rolling over and sitting up on his elbows.

"Mutant. Is that your name? It should be," the bully replied, laughing. "Mutant Miles!" The rest of the children had stopped what they were doing, and joined in with the laughter one by one. Soon the entire playground was laughing at him, it seemed. Someone threw a brightly coloured ball, nailing Tails in the back of his head. It didn't hurt physically, but it hurt mentally of course. Next a rock was thrown, hitting his ear. _This_, of course, hurt quite a bit. The targeted fox tenderly grabbed his ear. "What did I do?" he barely squeaked.

At this moment, the door burst open and Stacy called out, "Dinner. Everybody inside."

All of the children herded into the building, a few kicking Tails along the way. Once the huge group had filed into the door, Tails got up, his body aching, and walked inside as well. _Oh yes, how stupid of me to be born with two tails..._ What had he done? Tails decided that he wasn't hungry, and instead of following the children into the dining room, the sad fox dragged himself up the stairs and into the closet, climbing up the second pair of stairs. His feet felt like cement, his heart lead, and his entire body a sack of sand. All he wanted to do was go to sleep and wake up in his old house. His old bed, his old life. Wake up and see his parents. His loving, caring parents.

The sun had set, making it slightly difficult for Tails to see in the attic, but he managed to bring himself over to his bed and flop down on the moth-eaten blankets. He made a mental note to keep his blanket and pillow safe from said moths. After slowly kicking off his shoes, Tails curled up in the cold blankets and shut his eyes tightly. He still felt pain from being held by his tails, and everything else they'd done to him. The pain in the young fox's heart outweighed the hunger in his stomach a million to one. Clutching the photo frame to his chest, Tails every so slowly drifted to sleep, letting images of his family take over his mind.

The saddest thing is, Tails is only five.

Again Tails was awoken by his own body, but instead of a sneeze, it was a clawing pain in his stomach. The second he opened his eyes he clenched them shut again, wishing to be asleep. However, knowing that he would not be able survive without food, the fox rolled out of bed and went downstairs. At this point of time, Tails didn't plan to try to make friends with any of the other kids. He'd learned his lesson and wouldn't make the same mistake again. As the fox made his way down the stairs, and the second flight of stairs, he couldn't spot any children. _That's weird,_ he thought. Then the drifting smell of pancakes hit his nose, coming from the door marked "Dining Room". Upon stepping inside, Tails discovered a rather long and wide table, every child seated there, some sharing seats. Actually, it wasn't one whole table, but a row of various tables, various stained white tablecloths covering them.

An adult male Mobian, looking to be a canine of some sort, with scraggly black fur with white points and purple eyes was going around, serving pancakes and scrambled eggs, as well as pouring orange juice.

Sighing quietly, Tails walked down the length of the table, hiding the hurt the whispered remarks at him caused. It seems making fun of him had become a quick trend. The two tailed fox sat down and looked down at his lap.

As the charcoal coloured canine came to Tails, he asked with a cheerful tone, "Pancake and eggs?"

When Tails only nodded without looking up, the server's brows came together, confused. "Hey, what's wrong? Are you new?" Tails nodded again, still not looking up. "Can you talk?"

"Yes," was the simple answer.

"Alright. I'm Tony." Tony gave Tails his serving of one pancake and a ladleful of eggs.

"I'm Miles." Tails decided not to bother offering his nickname.

"Why so blue?"

Tails looked at Tony with a look that mutely said, "Are you serious?" Tony's ears dropped slightly in embarrassment. _Duh, he's in an orphanage, idiot._ Tony thought.

"Sorry.. Is there anything else on your mind, then?" Tony poured Tails a glass of orange juice.

Tails looked away quietly, twiddling the tip of one of his tails. "Kinda.. The other kids make fun of me."

"How come?" Tony asked, walking to the other side of Tails and serving a child who was conversing with another.

Tails reached around and brought forth his second tail, holding them out for Tony to see. "I have two tails.." Tails admitted sheepishly.

Tony paused in his job and looked at the two tails. For a moment, Tails thought the canine would make fun of him as well.

"Dude! That's way cool! Why're you so embarrassed over that?"

Tails looked up in surprised. "You're not going to tease me or call me a mutant or a freak?"

"Why would I do that?" Tails didn't have a reply, all he could do was gawk at Tony. "I have to get back to the kitchen. But don't those other kids get to you, your tails make you one of a kind. Who knows; maybe they're jealous?" With that final word, Tony went off to the kitchen.

Tails watched him go, taking a small bite of his pancakes. He replayed what Tony had said to him in his head over and over again. Maybe.. Just maybe.. Tony was right..

The young fox decided to think it over after his warm breakfast.


	3. Chapter Two

**Sorry it's a little short after such a long wait.**

After his belly had been filled, Tails had quickly retreated from the dining room. On his way back to the attic, he came across an elderly fox, who was busy sweeping the hall. Her back was to him. She must be Violet, he thought. Clearing his throat, the young fox greeted her with a small smile, "Hello." He shared a room with her, he might as well get to know her, he reasoned.

Moving with the slow motion of the elderly, Violet sluggishly turned and faced him. Her appearance explained her name. The old fox's fur was deep blue, resembling the night sky just before sunrise. Her hair was also blue, but of a lighter shade, and might remind one of the shallow water of the tropics. It flowed down her back in a long braid. Like most foxes, her muzzle and inner ears were white. To a more _poetic_ mind, it would seem as if deep indigo gemstones had been set into her eye sockets. And finally, scattered like wood shavings, grey streaks were visible in her fur. Her body looked quite frail, understandable. The fox wore a common maid uniform, navy blue with a (stained) white apron.

Upon seeing young Tails' smile, Violet couldn't help but smile herself. "Hello."

"Are you Violet?" the yellow fox questioned.

"Yes, I'm Violet. You must be the new child who I share a room with now. What's your name, again?"  
"Miles Prower." Tails had to stop himself from mentioning his nickname.

"Why aren't you out playing with the others, Miles?"

Tails put his hands behind his back and looked down. "Everyone else makes fun of me for my tails, since I.. have two of them," Tails admitted quietly, nudging an imaginary pebble with his shoe.

"Oh, well that wasn't very nice of them." Violet swept along the wall as she spoke. "Just because you have two tails doesn't mean you deserve to be picked on."

Tails looked up at her. "So you don't think my two tails are weird?"

"Of course not! In _my_ opinion they just make you all the more unique."

The young fox smiled ever so slightly. "If you could have two tails would you?"  
Violet chuckled. "Why not?" She laughed suddenly. "Perhaps I could fly with them, like those fancy helicopters."  
He giggled, "That's silly. You can't fly with your tails."

"How do you know? Have you ever tried?"  
"No, bu-"  
She interrupted him, "How do you know you can't fly?"

Tails was quiet for a moment. "It's just impossible."

Violet lifted up an old piece of newspaper, pocketing it for later disposal. She then continued to sweep. "Nothing's impossible."

"How do you know?"

"When you grow to be as old as I am, you learn things. One of the things I learned is that nothing's impossible."

Tails paused for a moment. "How old are you, Violet?"

Violet stood erect, stretching her bent back. "Eighty-nine."

"Eighty-nine?!"

Violet chuckled, resuming her sweeping. "I didn't stutter."

"Wow.." A thoughtful look came over the young fox's face. "That must've taken forever."

The maid scratched her chin. "Actually, it seems that the older you get, the faster time goes by."

Tails sat down against the wall, crossing his legs. "Time doesn't go by very fast for me."

"That's because you're so young." She looked at him again. "How old are you, anyway?"

Tails beamed proudly and boasted, "I'm five and a half. I turn six on October 16."

Violet grinned at the youngster's pride in his age. "Wow, you're so big already! What's today.. April 11? So you just have five months to go."

"Yeah, and it's going to take forever," Tails complained, drawling out the last word.

"It's only going to take as long as you believe it will, Miles. You can make it go faster, you know."

"How?" Tails looked up at her.

"Distract yourself. Read books, do activities." Violet came over to him. "Or you could help me clean."

Tails eyes' gleamed. "Okay!"

Violet smiled, sweeping hear him. "You can't get in the way of my sweeping, mister!" She swatted his backside lightly with the broom. Tails giggled and stood up, brushing his bottom off. "You can get a trash bag from the utility closet, down the hall."

Before Tails ran off to retrieve the bag, he said to Violet with a little smile, "By the way, you can call me Tails."

So started the beginning of Tails' and Violet's friendship. Every day Tails would eat his breakfast and then find Violet, where ever she happened to be. He rarely talked to the other children, anymore. At night Violet would tell the young fox bedtime stories, and let him sleep next to her if he became saddened by his grief for his parents. In the morning Violet would share her breakfast with Tails. The staff at the orphanage received more food than the children, but Violet couldn't eat all her portions. She didn't like the biscuits anyway.

For the next couple of months, that's how things were. The spring grass slowly turned yellow as summertime took over. The two friends would exchange life stories, Violet obviously having many more to share. Whenever Violet went to the dry-cleaners, she'd sometimes bring Tails along. He found it to be an adventure. The times she didn't, Tails would reside in the attic and await her return. He would read books or rummage around the many boxes. One hot July day, the curious fox had finished looking through a box full of very uninteresting things, when he discovered a large blanket-concealed chest, tucked away in a corner. After, with much difficulty, the fox had hefted the wooden chest out, he lifted one of the flaps of the blanket. Frustration made its way to his face. The chest had a huge lock on it, only slightly larger than Tails' closed fist. Why's this locked?, he thought. He'd ask Violet about it when she got back, he decided.

By the time Violet returned and made her way to the attic, Tails had fallen asleep next to the chest, using one of his tails as a pillow and the other as a blanket. The maid couldn't help but smile at the sight. Violet made her way over to him and gently nudged him. She'd have carried Tails if she was strong enough, but much of her strength had been lost with age. "Tails," she spoke softly.

The yellow fox cracked open his eyes. Upon seeing Violet above him, he stood up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Hi, Violet," he said with a yawn. He then pointed to the locked chest. "How come this is locked?"

Violet's eyes lifted to the chest. "Oh, that old chest.. I locked it because I didn't want any prying children to come up here and ruin what's inside." The old fox slowly ran her thin hand over the edge of the chest. Reading Tails' disappointed expression, she said, "But you can see what's inside, you're not like the other children."

Violet reached into the hem of her shirt and revealed a key, strung on some twine around her neck. Her joints groaned with objection as she knelt and inserted the key into the lock, turning it. The dust that had been settled on the lock dispersed into the air as it unlocked with some rusty resistance. Tails watched eagerly as Violet lifted the lid and exposed the inside of the chest.

Inside of this chest was a massive collection of mementos, photo albums, trinkets, various jars of sand, and a neatly folded blanket.

"What is all this stuff?" Tails inquired.

"This, Tails, is a collection of things I've gotten throughout my life." Violet reached inside and picked up one of the photo albums, sitting on a bed. Tails sat down next to her, looking over her shoulder.

"Want to see me when I was your age?" When Tails nodded, she opened up the book to the first page. Tails' eyes widened incredibly at the sight, he could barely recognize the young version of Violet.

"That's you?!"

"Mhm. Sure is different, huh?"

"Yeah.."

Tails pointed to a family picture. "Is that your family?"

"Sure is." Violet pointed to each of her family members, labeling her mother, father, and younger brother.

For the rest of the afternoon until dinner, Violet told Tails about the pictures in the photo album. She described to him the feeling of the cool sea breeze through one's fur, the taste of the salty coastal air, the icy chill of the waves. He loved hearing of her tales. When it was time for dinner, Violet closed the album and set it back inside the chest, locking it once more. Tails, disappointed at having to pause her stories, argued that he could skip dinner tonight.

"A growing boy needs his food!"

"But I'm barely growing!"

"That doesn't matter. Off to dinner with you." She tapped his back, ushering him towards the stairs. "I won't tell you any more stories until you eat dinner. _And_ your vegetables."

Tails admitted defeat, groaning as he went downstairs.


End file.
